


you’re a part-time lover and a full-time friend

by pusa



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boys In Love, Breaking the Fourth Wall, But also, Eddie Kaspbrak is Whipped, Friends to Lovers, Living Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Richie Tozier is Whipped, motherlord of pining actually, theyre just soft boys being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pusa/pseuds/pusa
Summary: Here is another thing they don’t tell you when you’re in love with your best friend:1.	Sometimes, it’s hard to keep all the feelings in
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87





	you’re a part-time lover and a full-time friend

**Author's Note:**

> very important:  
> \- i hc ben as transbian with she/her pronouns. thats my hc ok shes important to me  
> \- aware that its set in the 90s and homophobia is very rampant, but i didnt wanna write something like that so lets pretend theyre lucky and homophobia doesnt exist please and thank you  
> \- happy birthday allie, you already know how much i love you

Because here is the thing:

Richie Tozier, oh dear old poor Richie Tozier, he’ll be swimming upon books and upon books all titled, yet in various variations, **COMPUTER SCIENCE FOR BEGINNERS. COMPUTER FOR DUMMIES. COMPUTER SCIENCE THIS! COMPUTER SCIENCE THAT!** and he’ll spare a glance at his right and see Eddie sitting on their dorm floor, head buried on his laptop screen, bowl of Froot Loops beside him as he chews melodically, eyebrows furrowed.

And then, Richie will let out a small smile because, wow, Eddie is in yesterday’s clothes and his hair is shaped into a pyramid (because he’s been sleeping on his side more, a little weird, yeah?) and there’s sleep-scratches on his cheek and he’ll glare at Richie and then Richie—oh poor Richie, he’ll feel seventeen again and feel all the things he felt for Eddie Franklin Kaspbrak and feel _oh, oh, oh_ again.

Oh, wait. I haven’t been telling you their story, right?

The story of Richie and Eddie. Eddie and Richie.

They’re a package duo, you know?

You can’t have one without the other. It’s always been like that.

But, you, dear reader, do you know how they started? How their little love story happened?

It wasn’t really that interesting, I’ll tell you that. Nothing major, no deaths, fortunately, no weird magic spells, no voodoo dolls.

Just Richie and Eddie. And maybe Beverly, Stanley, Ben, Mike, and Bill. And some creepy clown.

But!

That’s not why you’re here, right?

Well, all right. Let’s have a little recap, yeah? Get things going in that brain of yours? Yeah, all right, let’s see what happened last in the little story of Richie and Eddie.

_“Richie,” he whispered._

_“What?” Richie was down on his hands and knees, staring at him desperately._

_“Don’t call me Eds,” he said, and smiled. He raised his left hand slowly and touched Richie’s cheek. Richie was crying. “You know I… I…”_

Now, wait a minute! That’s all wrong! That’s not how they ended—no! Sorry, friends, it seems as though I’ve mixed all the files up! That, friends, was something my dear friend, Stephen, wrote. A little wrong, right? Forgive, dear Stephen. He’s a bit confused on how RichieandEddie should have ended but at least he has the spirit! Now, where’s the original ending?

++

_ dawn, in the quarry, after defeating Pennywise, 1989 _

It was something for the books. Georgie’s yellow raincoat. The mud in their faces. Eddie’s voice complaining about his mom. All of them staring at their reflection on the window of a Derry shop. Richie’s pedal digging into his knee.

“I can’t go home like this, guys,” Eddie chokes out, voice high and squeaky. Richie thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “My mom will kill me.”

Richie snorts and looks at Eddie, heart feeling new and blooming. “Dude,” he snorts out, “you’ve been gone for twenty-four straight hours. Your face is definitely on a milk carton by now.”

Eddie stares at him with a face that looks like he would rather be _anywhere_ than here.

“Also, that puke smells worse than your mom’s slippers.”

“Shut up, Richie!” Beverly groans and Richie groans, catching her eye as he winks. They all begin to start walking; the sorrows of what happened earlier softly yet quickly becoming old news. 

“Okay, first of all,” Eddie starts and Richie grins, _there’s his eds!_ “my mom’s slippers smell like potpourri.” He glares at Richie and they all start walking. “ _Asshole_.”

Richie feels a bark of laughter start at the end of his throat when Stanley speaks up, voice covered with disgust. “No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do!” Eddie gasps and they all snicker in a laughter. “Also, how would you know how they smell like in the first place?”

“Can we just keep it quiet, please?” Mike asks in exaggeration with the biggest grin on his face. Everyone agrees and disagrees. They need the noise right now.

But not _this_ noise.

“There’s literally potpourri all over my bathroom!” Eddie insists, “Like, there’s rosemary leaves, I think, and, and—”

“Eddie,” Ben speaks up then, bless her, and Eddie turns to her sharply. Richie feels a little bad for Ben. “Potpourri is literally a French word meaning ‘rotten pot’.”

Silence falls between them and they all slow down to stare at Eddie. “No,” he shakes his heads, lips pulled into a line. “Nu-uh, there’s oranges and clementine’s—”

“Can we ju-uh-just go to the qua-quarry?” Bill cuts Eddie off and everyone giggles. Eddie huffs at him before shrugging.

“Okay,” he mutters, cheeks puffing up with a pout on his lips. “Might as well get myself cleaned.”

It’s almost symbolic; how they all hold hands and jump towards the water, the wind harsh and strong against their face, their grips on each other’s hands tightening and tightening as the water engulfs them, their eyes closed shut and cheeks puffed to hold air in. The slow yet quick gasps they took as they popped out of the water at the same time creepily, all of them looking at each other before slowly erupting into laughter.

“We fucking did it!” Richie screams and throws his arms around Ben and Eddie. He can feel relief soak through his entire bloodstream as he looks at all his friends.

“We did it!” Beverly screams after with the biggest grin, then ducking down the water again to briefly wet her hair, laughing as she shakes her head, flicking water everywhere.

“Ah, come on!” Stanley complains, even though he’s soaked in water. “Your girl germs.”

“ _Stanley_!”

“Come on, guys,” Mike then says, and everyone quiets down and turns to him. Mike’s looking at them all with the softest smile and shrugs, floating away as he sighs. “I’m glad to be friends with you all.”

“Shucks, Mikey,” Richie shakes his head, squinting at everyone through his droplet-stained glasses. “You getting emotional on us, aren’t ya?”

“Shut up, Richie.”

“Yeah, shut up, Richie.” Eddie quips and Richie turns to him with a gasp, almost swallowing water. “Ew!”

“Eddie, dah-ling! How dare yah!”

“The-there they go.” Bill mumbles to Beverly, who laughs and begins to shake her head, winking at Ben before swimming away.

Richie floats over to Eddie with a grin and puts a hand on his cheek. “You missed a spot.”

“Shut up, I haven’t started yet.” Eddie grumbles yet lets Richie rub at his cheek with a thumb. Richie feels frozen. He feels like the water’s gonna swallow him whole and he’s slowly sinking and sinking but the only thing anchoring him up is Eddie’s soft yet dirty cheek; Eddie looking down at the seemingly interesting water.

“Uhm,” Richie mumbles and floats a little closer, removing his hand slightly to wet it and cleans Eddie’s cheek again. “You got a lot off earlier, though.”

Eddie looks up with a hum and laughs softly, shrugging as he lets the grin stay. “Yeah? Guess I’m lucky.”

“Yeah,” Richie murmurs and moves his thumb in circles to thoroughly remove the puke. It should be disgusting to them both; Richie washing off the puke from Eddie’s cheeks with dirty water; Eddie’s cheek, littered with puke from an insane clown, being cleaned off by his disgusting friend with dirty water. But no one says a thing. No one says anything.

Amidst it all, Eddie softly touches Richie’s wrist and moves his head a little closer to the hand.

“Feels nice,” he mumbles. Richie is speechless.

He reminds him of the stray cats Richie often finds at the back alley of the Aladdin, where he spends his last dollars buying hotdogs and maybe those eight-dollar chicken wings just to feed them.

“You look like a cat,” he blurts out.

Eddie snorts. “So, you’re grooming me now?”

Richie laughs loudly and nervously fixes his glasses. Eddie is a watery blob. He dips his hand again in water and rubs at Eddie’s cheek. His entire right cheek is clean, except for the ones near his lips.

 _No, Richie_.

“All done,” Richie clears his throat and softly drops his hand. “Want me to do the other side?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure, you’re finally useful for something.”

“You sure do know how to love a guy, Eds,” Richie jokes and raises his left hand to softly caress Eddie’s left cheek. He pretends to not notice the way Eddie closes his eyes and snuggles closer to his hand. He pretends not to notice anything Eddie does.

Richie thinks Eddie is the prettiest boy he’s ever seen.

“You have something,” Richie whispers and he thinks of how he and Eddie aren’t drowning and how they’re just floating and not even sinking. Eddie’s left cheek is clean (or as clean as Richie can do) and there’s puke on the tip of Eddie’s nose. Richie thinks Eddie is a doe. Or maybe a cat with a freckle on the nose.

“Hm?” Eddie hums, eyes closed as his arms move around him, desperately trying to float him up.

“Uhm,” Richie whispers before softly removing his hand and swiping on Eddie’s nose. There’s dirt above Eddie’s cupids bow. Richie swipes at it and Eddie opens his eyes in surprise.

“Oh,” Eddie says and blinks down at Richie’s hand, still in front of his lips.

Richie is thirteen years old and he wants to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak.

( _eddie kaspbrak is thirteen years old and he’s floating in a big pile of dirty water and his face is being held and cleaned by dirty water by the cutest boy in the world and eddie just wants to kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss him_ )

Later, when they’re alone, in their moonlight-lit rooms, Eddie Kaspbrak will curl up in bed with his hands cupping his reddening and heating cheeks. And meanwhile, Richie is staring at his hands and turning them into fists and opening them up. It’s a feeling both will never forget.

++

Now, now, I know what you’re thinking: what’s next? Are we gonna read another two-thousand worth of words of them growing up until it’s college time? Is that it? Well, I’m here to tell you: no.

As much as I’d want to tell you, my dear reader, how RichieandEddie grew up in the in-betweens and whatnots but I think I’m running a wee bit late on time here. So maybe, let’s skip the odd puberty stage and get on with it?

Because, well, let’s face it. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret—just between you and me. (And maybe, a whole lot of others) Here is the thing:

I don’t think Richie Tozier stopped looking at Eddie Kaspbrak like he hung up the stars in the sky and that those same stars are seen in the smallest and cutest freckles in his face. I don’t think Richie Tozier stopped looking at Eddie Kaspbrak and thought what it was like to kiss other boys and to hold another boy’s hand without feeling like he’s going to explode.

And I don’t think Eddie Kaspbrak has stopped looking at Richie Tozier and thought that he wasn’t the prettiest boy in the world. Because, in Eddie Kaspbrak’s eyes, Richie Tozier is the prettiest and funniest boy in the world. And maybe, holding his hand didn’t make him feel dirty like he thought it would.

And I’m gonna tell you, folks:

It doesn’t get any easier than that.

We have four years of college ahead of us.

Are you ready?

_ summer of 1993 _

The thing about college and moving out is this:

  1. It’s scary. Like, ‘falling off a building and being pulled deep into a swimming pool that you can’t swim in’ scary.
  2. You’ll probably miss your mother’s cooking and your father’s boring and unfunny jokes.



But Richie Tozier thinks there’s something to be noted:

  1. He’s moving out and spending his college years with his best friend.



“Wow,” Eddie Kaspbrak says in a deadpan voice as he sits on the floor of Richie Tozier’s room, cross-legged in front of his suitcase. Everything is folded neatly, and Richie thinks there’s space for his entire room in it. “I didn’t know Bill was my roommate.”

“Harsh, Eds, that’s just harsh.”

Richie was looking at himself on his mirror. Do you know what’s the trend right now? That’s right.

Crop tops.

And high hair.

Except Richie doesn’t really have that much of a hair—let alone a straight one—so he’s just flopping it around, shaking his head, as he looks at himself. He’s wearing a shirt he just randomly bought at the thrift store that Beverly cut into a crop top. It’s the best thing Richie’s ever worn. It has a big duck printed in the middle. Nothing else. Just that duck. He hooks his fingers onto the belt loops of his blue jeans and checks himself out.

“Eds,” he starts again, twisting his body. “Should I get a bellybutton piercing?”

“ _No_ ,” Eddie answers in a way Richie knows he would. “Piercings are dangerous, and they could get infected! Knowing you, you might infect it in an hour and then what happens next? You come to me and I have to disinfect your nasty piercing and then—”

“Geez, Louis!” Richie laughs and turns to Eddie with a grin. “It was just a yes or no question!”

“ _No_.” Eddie says firmly, turning to him with a glare. “Also, you’re seventeen years old. You’re not legal yet to get a piercing. Dumbass.”

“Ah, Eddie, baby,” Richie groans with a grin. He watches as Eddie turns to him with a glare, yet his cheeks are flushed. He thinks it’s the summer heat. “You always wound me, yeah?”

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie rolls his eyes and zips his luggage. “Are you done? You’ve been goofing around all day.”

“Yes, I’m done, darling,” Richie sighs dramatically and waltzes over to his desk, turning on his radio and smiling at the song. “Look, Eds! It’s your favorite song!”

The opening notes of _What About Love?_ by Heart play softly and Richie cheers loudly, turning up the volume and turns around just in time to see Eddie stand up with a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, Eds!” Richie grins, walking over to him with a smile. “Dance with me!”

“Absolutely not!” Eddie glares at him yet lets Richie hold onto his hands. It’s something he’s grown used to; not flinching away his hands like he used to, it’s something Richie thinks makes his heart beat faster for Eddie. “It’s already night! I’m tired.”

“Come on!” Richie groans, shimmying a little and then letting the grin fall from his face as he makes serious eye contact with the other. “ _I’ve been lonely, I’ve been waitin’ for you!_ ”

He gets cuts off by Eddie’s snorting laughter as he almost doubles over. Richie hastily twirls him and lets a grin take over his grin as it almost—almost happens in slow-motion, you know? Heart playing loudly in the badly lit room of Richie Tozier, whose twirling around his best friend (crush? lover? forever in love with?); his best friend who looks ethereal underneath the fluorescent light with laughter pouring out of his lips and the cutest button nose and kissable cheeks. It feels like Richie’s inside a movie and the only thing left is to just—to just kiss—

“Hey!” Eddie breathes out, chest heaving as he looks at the taller with a glint in his eyes. “I won’t dance if you stop singing, trashmouth.”

Oh.

“ _Oh_ ,” Richie raises a brow and tugs Eddie closer, wrapping his arm around his waist and grinning widely. “Is that what you want, Eds?”

Eddie is close, so, so, _so_ close that Richie can count his eyelashes and freckles (which Richie has been counting since they were thirteen—since he was as young as he can remember because, well, how long has he been in love?) and maybe lean in closer and just hug Eddie forever.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers with a smirk, intertwining their hands and waltzing around. “Sing for me, Richie.”

Then, Richie starts humming, waits for the chorus, waits for _the_ part as he tightens his grip around Eddie and leans closer. “ _What about love?_ ” he sings softly, their noses touching and it’s so close, so impossibly close that this doesn’t feel like what friends should do and Eddie’s breath is warm against his lips and—“ _I only want to share it with you._ ”

Eddie’s eyes remind Richie of those of a cat in the night—big and doe-like. He stares up at Richie and it’s quiet between them as the song keeps playing, their feet slowly and unconsciously moving to do the waltz as their hands get clammier and clammier.

It’s so quiet that Richie thinks he can hear his own heartbeat playing alongside the song.

“Richie,” Eddie whispers and he thinks it’s the single most melodic thing Richie’s ever heard. “Richie, I…”

“Richard!” Maggie starts knocking on the door and they both jump away from each other. Richie can still feel the warmth of Eddie’s body in his hands. “Richard, Eds! Come on, boys, it’s time for dinner! Wouldn’t want to miss your last dinner!”

“Coming, Mags!” _Fuck!_

Eddie is quiet beside him and the song in his radio has already moved to the next one. It’s like one big dream.

“I’ll—I’ll go ahead, Rich,” Eddie mumbles and smiles at him. His hand twitches at his side and Richie pretends he doesn’t notice it. “Don’t want to keep Mags waiting.”

Richie laughs and nods to his door, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, you go ahead, Eds.”

Eddie looks like he’s gonna say something, his eyes staring at Richie’s before he sighs and looks away, nodding. Richie stares at his back before he sighs, putting his hands all over his face.

_Good luck, Tozier._

Oh, dear.

I was expecting them to kiss, you know? You don’t know how long I’ve been watching these two and expecting them to kiss! Oh, well. Maybe next time?

But, oh, how the years have flown by! And how RichieandEddie have done nothing about their feelings. Fun! Right?

So, let’s go along their journey of college.

(and let’s skip the crying-and-screaming parents, the crying hugs, the long road trip to Connecticut, the singing, the yearning, the longing, _everything_.)

Because, RichieandEddie are starting a new stage in their life, my friends. And that is college.

Now, I’m gonna give you a little rundown of RichieandEddie in their college life:

Richie Tozier, oh the ever-loving science nerd. Would it even surprise you if I say that he took Computer Science? The absolute Science loving boy! Although, Richie has a little secret (other than being in love with his best friend, of course); like every other teenager in the world, he’s a little confused, a little uncertain about his chosen course. But who else isn’t?

That’s what Richie likes to think, though.

Now! Enough about Richie! Let’s move on to Edward!

Now, Eddie Kaspbrak here, he took a good year of researching majors and what he’d really like—late night talks with the Losers on what’s best for him, what _should_ he take? is that good for him? are you sure he’d excel in that?

Because if Eddie were being honest, he doesn’t know if he’s ever good for anything.

(That is wrong, of course.)

So, to play it safely, our dear Eddie chose Biomedical Engineering. The safest choice, right?

That’s all I’m telling you now, my friends. (Or maybe that’s all I know for now.)

So.

Let’s start with how RichieandEddie spend time with each other in their college life!

_ fall of 1993 _

Ladies and gentlemen! Edward Kaspbrak has joined the debate team!

He stands, breathless, on their dorm room, staring at Richie, who’s reading a book on—Eddie’s bed.

“You’re in my bed.”

“Yes, I am,” Richie answers him casually, feet jittering up and down beneath the blanket. “Congrats, Eds. I definitely saw you joining the debate team.”

Eddie grins at that and hums, walking over to him while grabbing a water bottle on his desk. He sighs and sits down at his bed. Richie’s reading a book about the history of mathematics.

Richie pats the spot next to him and Eddie rolls his eyes, but crawls to the spot beside Richie anyways. When he sits next to him, Richie hums and tilts his book a little. Eddie can see that he’s on the thirty-sixth page.

“Homework?” he asks, and Richie turns to him with a smile and a shrug.

“Just some light reading,” answers Richie as he turns his eyes back to the book. “I just wanted to know if math was invented _or_ discovered but I’m having a really hard time on why Euclid did what he did.”

“I think what Euclid did is very important in the invention,” Eddie frowns when Richie turns to him with wide eyes, “or… _discovery_ of mathematics. Maybe you’ll find out later in the book.”

“Hm,” Richie hums, eyes moving slowly. “Maybe I will.”

A few moments pass between them and Eddie says with a grin, “You’re not reading anymore, are you?”

“Nope,” Richie laughs and snaps the book shut. “I’ll get to my question one day.”

“Maybe try a different book,” Eddie offers for him and Richie sighs in defeat.

“It is a tough life for me, Eds,” Richie says seriously, and Eddie lets out a giggle. Richie turns to him with a grin.

“Oh, so my suffering is funny, Eds?”

“Yes, it is,” answers Eddie with a grin at the other. Then, like a flash bulb in his brain, “oh, I have some pizza from lunch earlier. Do you want some?”

Richie’s eyes light up and Eddie smiles at him. “I guess I’ll go get my bag, then.”

“I guess you shall, Eduardo!”

When they’re finishing up, the radio turned on softly as Richie disgustingly licking pizza grease off his fingers and Eddie is trying to think of a way to say it, he blurts out, “I have some dreams.”

This, however, means no sense whatsoever and Richie looks up from his fingers and his glasses slide down his nose. “Uhm,” he says, and Eddie feels like screaming. “Me…too?”

“No, I mean,” Eddie racks his mind for something to describe it. “I’ve been getting uhm—weird? Dreams?”

Richie raises a brow at him. Eddie feels like he’s been given the ability to legally kill. The radio plays a song that Eddie vaguely thinks is titled _i’ll stop the world and melt with you_ , he’s probably wrong, though. He feels like this song is what he feels like with Richie. Then, he remembers what Richie said.

“No!” Eddie groans and leans his head back, luckily hitting his bed. They ate pizza on the floor. Eddie thinks it’s the peak of his college life. Like in the movies. “That’s not what I meant!”

“It’s okay, Edward,” Richie starts and Eddie groans loudly. “You’re nearing eighteen years old, it’s okay to have weird dreams. I’m telling you right now, I have some—”

“ _Stop, stop_!” Eddie laughs loudly, shaking his head as he covers his ears with his hands. “That’s not what I meant, asshole!”

Richie laughs alongside with him as Eddie continues to groan loudly, shaking his head. “Okay, okay!” Richie laughs, leaning on his knees to grab Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him. “Eds! It’s okay, I’m done!”

“Finally,” Eddie groans at him and rolls his away. “You are annoying.”

“Oh, you love me,” Richie grins, eyebrows wriggling at him and Eddie glares at him.

“All right, all right, I’m sorry,” Richie leans closer and pinches Eddie’s cheek. “Don’t be sad, Eds baby! Come on, tell Richie what your dreams are about.”

“Asshole, you make it sound weird,” Eddie grumbles and swats away Richie’s hand. “And _stop_ pinching me, wash your hands first!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Richie apologizes with a sheepish smile and leans back. “But I’m serious, Eds,” he says seriously with a soft voice and his eyes catch Eddie’s behind his glasses. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

Eddie pouts at him. Richie pouts back.

“Don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” Eddie mumbles and Richie pouts at him. Eddie tries not to think about how dry Richie’s lips look.

“You sure?” Richie asks then seriously, and he moves closer to Eddie. “I’m serious, Eds, what’s wrong?”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek and wants to punch himself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! You should have just kept quiet_.

“Uhm,” he mumbles before shrugging in defeat. “I just have dreams.”

“What kind of dreams, Eds?” Richie tilts his head in confusion and fixes his glasses. “You gotta help me out here, buddy.”

Eddie huffs out a sigh and finally, a little shaky and quiet, “Just, dreams from back home. I dream that I’m still there with my ma and with…”

“Oh,” Richie cuts him off softly and it happens maybe a little too fast or a little too slow—it happens when Eddie’s a little distracted and off, thinking about his dreams and how they always stay with him—Richie’s sitting beside him in an instant and his hand is warm, warm, warm in Eddie’s knee and Richie’s eyelashes are so, so long behind his glasses and Eddie feels like everything’s okay.

“If it makes you feel better,” Richie clears his throat and Eddie can feel and see how his fingers are trembling a little and he has this urge, the undeniable urge to place his hand on top of Richie’s and the radio is singing softly and Eddie feels a little bit dizzy, feels like they’re back in Derry in the clubhouse, in the hammock and Richie is speaking and he’s saying, “…and they’re a little scary sometimes, Eds. Sometimes, I feel like I’ll never wake up, sometimes I feel like I’m in that dream forever. They make me feel like I’m back in that goddamn house and, and—”

> (Eddie is reminded of Beverly and her and him, in the quarry, in the cliff looking down as they talk about tomorrow’s and yesterday’s and dream’s and there’s gravel and dirt in Eddie’s palms when Beverly laughs a little and shrugs, “You know when you remember your dreams it means they won’t come true?”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “You know,” Beverly shrugs and Eddie looks at her with a look that screams _i don’t know!!_ and she giggles. “That old gossip. When you remember a dream, it won’t happen.”
> 
> “Oh,” Eddie says quietly and tries not to think about his dreams with—
> 
> “I hope it’s not true, though,” Beverly frowns, looking down at the water. “I dreamt that I won’t get accepted to college and I remember it clearly.”
> 
> “I’m sure it’s not real,” Eddie assures her quickly and looks down at the water as well. “Probably some stupid thing to scare kids.”
> 
> “Well, I’m scared, all right,” Beverly grins and then looks at Eddie. “You’ll tell me when you remember a dream, yeah?”
> 
> “Yeah,” Eddie smiles at her and feels like he’s lying. “And you should, too. Tell me your dreams when you remember them.”
> 
> “Of course, Eddie.”)

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly and then, Richie’s hand is off his knee and it’s—oh, oh, oh—he takes Eddie’s shaking ones and intertwines them and Eddie feels like he just released the biggest sigh. “Like you’re all alone in that house and he’ll—he’s there and—”

“And then you wake up,” Richie finishes for him with a firm voice and Eddie blinks up at him. “Right, Eds? I wake up and I look at you and you’re there and alive and I’m not in that godawful house and I’m here with you.”

“And you’re here with me,” Eddie breathes out and Richie’s hand in his feels normal and all right. He looks at Richie again and they both smile at each other and Richie squeezes his hand and Richie grins and Eddie, Eddie feels safe and relief flood through his chest.

“I’m here with you,” Richie grins and he brings up their hands and kisses Eddie’s knuckles and whispers against his knuckles, “and you’re here with me.”

Eddie tightens his grip on Richie’s hand and feels his heart jump and tumble around and he’s thinking whether this is what friends do and if he should say something or maybe he should kiss Richie’s knuckles too but he looks at Richie again and he blinks and says softly, “I’m always here with you.”

Richie lets out a laugh and winks at Eddie. “We’re gonna be in circles here, Eds!” he says in a southern-Belle voice before he lets go of Eddie’s hand and stretches a little. “Now, chop-chop, young man! We have some studying to do!”

Eddie looks at his hand and feels like everything’s all right and the radio is playing Richie’s favorite song and Eddie looks at Richie dancing and singing and knows that everything’s going to be all right.

Eddie looks at Richie and sees the words _safe_ and _home_.

_ spring of 1994 _

Even when sometimes, bad days come and stays like an annoying moth seeing light.

When Eddie comes back to the dorm, arms aching from carrying five, thick, and heavy medical books, the sorrows and stress from today hanging off his back like a monkey, he’s pleasantly surprised to come in with the lights off and mellow radio music playing from somewhere.

“Richie?” he calls out, quickly kicking the door close and throwing his books at the nearest bed—Richie’s bed, which is empty. Eddie sighs and opens a small desk light by Richie’s bedside drawer. A soft fluorescent light warms up a small portion of the room and Eddie squints his eyes at his bed.

There’s a Richie-sized lump in his bed.

Eddie wants to say that he’s surprised but he really isn’t. Richie’s been sleeping in his bed for days now. Sometimes, Eddie lays with him, sometimes—well, it’s every time that Eddie lays with him.

Eddie’s feet slides across the cool wooden floor as he walks over to the bed and places a hand on what he assumes is Richie’s shoulder.

 _He’s sad_.

“Richie?” he murmurs and places his knee on the bed. Silence answers him.

He walks around the bed and kneels in front of Richie; whose face is the only thing popping out of the blanket. He isn’t wearing his glasses. His eyes are closed yet Eddie knows he’s awake. He doesn’t know why or how but he does.

He softly lays on the small spot left on the bed and lays there with him.

Eddie thinks he fell asleep, thinks the tiredness finally came to him but all he knows is that when his eyes open, Richie’s biting on his nails and his eyes are downcast to Eddie’s arms.

“Don’t do that,” Eddie whispers and Richie’s eyes flash to him, his hand hastily getting out of his mouth.

“Sorry, Eds,” Richie mumbles, cheek squished against the pillow. Richie moves back a little to give Eddie space. Eddie moves closer to the Richie, thumbing the blanket. Richie smiles and opens it up for him.

“I thought you quit biting your nails,” Eddie whispers when he’s underneath the blanket with Richie. He tries not to think about curling his legs with Richie’s in the cold, how Richie’s hands would feel like holding his. He tries not to think too much.

“I’m sorry,” Richie whispers back, putting the hand under his face. His cheeks squish even more. “I couldn’t help it.”

“What’s wrong?” Eddie then asks, because he knows something’s plaguing Richie; has been plaguing him for weeks now. Winter came and went away with Eddie and Richie spending their days abusing their heater and buying lots of thick sweaters and coats in thrift stores. During those times, Richie had been a little far, a little distracted, a little less Voices and a little more mellow tones in his voice.

(it had been confusing at first—two months after their semester started, a little after eddie joined the debate team, richie had excitedly come home screaming and dancing about how he’s been accepted into the radio station club. eddie thought it was the cutest and coolest thing ever.)

Richie shrugs, or shrugs as much as he can while he’s lying down and Eddie keeps quiet. He softly bites the inside of his cheek and scoots even closer to Richie. He gently takes the wrist of the hand underneath Richie’s face and looks at Richie. Richie’s eyelashes are long, probably longer than Eddie’s, but they were always covered by his glasses. Richie’s freckles were light because of winter.

Eddie thinks he looks as sad as how he feels.

With a deep breath and lots of courage, Eddie softly intertwines their hands and Richie lets out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Eds,” Richie whispers shakily, eyes blinking fast after minutes of silence between them. Eddie had been rubbing his thumb in circles all over the back of Richie’s hand, but he stops once Richie speaks up. Richie lets out a shaky breath again and Eddie looks at him.

“I’m so confused, Eds,” Richie whispers again and to Eddie’s surprise, Richie moves closer, breath coming out shaky and warm against their intertwined hands. “I don’t think I wanna do computer science anymore.”

“Wh—” Eddie starts before he bites his lip. “You don’t wanna study computer science anymore?”

Richie bites his lip a little hard, a little harshly. “No,” he breathes out wetly, voice laced with sadness and regret. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Why?” Eddie whispers and squeezes Richie’s hand. “What happened, Richie?”

“I’m scared, Eds,” Richie answers instead and he sniffles a little, burying his face a little into his arm. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s thankful that they’re in the dark. “I don’t wanna study computer science anymore.”

“Richie,” Eddie whispers before moving closer to him. Their knees bump against each other and Eddie can feel Richie’s warmth. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you, it’s okay, Richie.”

“Is it really?” Richie sniffles, voice cracking a bit as he whispers it out. His fingers tighten again Eddie’s, “I don’t think I’m doing anything right.”

“Don’t say that,” Eddie scolds him lightly and then, he softly curls a leg around Richie’s. Richie breathes in shakily and Eddie scrambles in the dark to find Richie’s other hand. Richie finds his in a second. “Talk to me, Richie.”

“Eds,” Richie whispers out and Eddie can hear his own breathing and heartbeat in his ears. “I don’t think I’m cut out for computer science. I kind of—I think I wanna take another major.”

Then, before Eddie can say anything, Richie whispers, softly and in the smallest voice Eddie heard from him, “I think I wanna change majors.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly and Richie answers him with a sniffle. “Do you know what major you’re changing to?”

“Yeah,” Richie whispers and Eddie squeezes both his hands. “I think I wanna change to journalism.”

Eddie lets a smile fall onto his lips as he squeezes Richie’s hands again. “It suits you,” he whispers softly, and Richie makes a noise at the back of his throat. “Is it because of the radio station club?”

“It’s so weird, Eds,” Richie whispers instead and squeezes his hand. “I don’t wanna take computer science anymore, Eds. I wanna work at a radio station, Eds. Eds, Eds, Eds, I don’t know what to do, Eds.”

Eddie can’t help the small giggle he lets out and he moves even closer, impossibly closer. “It’s okay,” he whispers and then, “do you want me to hug you?”

Richie’s small _yes_ makes Eddie feels like a thousand butterflies and he softly lets go of Richie’s hands and scoots even closer and closer and it’s almost like a puzzle piece, how his arms wrap around Richie’s a little too perfectly and softly. Richie curls up a little, head bumping a little against Eddie’s collarbones and his breath is shaky and warm against his chest. Eddie feels like he’s trying to pierce Richie back together.

“I think you’re gonna be the greatest radio DJ ever,” Eddie whispers then and like clockwork, Richie makes a sad, tiny noise at the back of his throat.

“You think so?” Richie asks quietly, vulnerability lacing his voice and Eddie hugs him a little tighter.

“I _know_ so,” Eddie whispers with integrity. “You’re gonna be the funniest radio DJ ever and you’ll get calls from all over the world and it’ll be people telling you that you’re their favorite radio DJ and that you’re funny and you make them feel alive.”

Richie sniffles but he still laughs a little, clogged up in his throat as he shakes a little under Eddie’s hold. “And,” Eddie whispers, “one day, I’ll be working and one of my coworkers will open the radio and I’ll hear you and I’ll go, ‘hey! I know that guy! That’s my best friend!’ and you’ll make a funny joke and they’ll be jealous of me.”

Richie laughs again and Eddie collarbones are wet. “I thought Bill was your best friend,” Richie whispers with a laugh and Eddie giggles.

“That’s what you think,” he whispers back and hugs Richie impossibly tighter. “But my best friend is the greatest radio DJ in the world. And he has amazing and funny Voices and he’ll be the most successful DJ ever.”

“And,” Eddie continues when Richie stays quiet, “you’ll be the greatest broad journalist too, you know? You’re sweet, Richie, and you’re passionate about anything. People trust you and like you.”

“That’s a lie,” Richie whispers back. “You don’t like me.”

“I like you,” Eddie answers instantly without thinking about it. “I love you.”

Richie sniffles. “I love you, too, Eds.”

Days later, when Richie is a little better, curls a little fluffier, cheeks a little fuller, Eddie links both their pinkies as they walk up to the registration and Eddie rubs a thumb at the back of Richie’s hand.

Eddie tries not to think too much how Richie had hugged him a little too tight and offered to buy him coffee and ramen ( _“what is wrong with you?_ ”) even when Eddie said he wasn’t hungry.

Eddie tries not to think too much how he always catches Richie looking at him and the way Richie’s eyes look when he’s reading and how Richie’s fingers twitch when he’s about to drink coffee and how Richie’s lips curl up when he doesn’t want to laugh at a joke and when Richie—Richie, Richie, Richie, Richie.

Eddie tries not to think about it too much.

_ fall of 1994 _

The thing about being in love with your best friend is this:

  1. You don’t know if they know that your I love you’s are different from your I love you’s then



And it’s Hard. Capital H, Hard.

Because RichieandEddie are walking to one of their campus buildings and Eddie has crouched down near the benches to pet a black cat, the biggest grin on his face. His beanie is placed right above his ear, making it bend a little and it makes Richie’s heart hurt in a way it does when he looks at Eddie. Eddie’s wearing one of Richie’s coats.

“Look, Richie!” Eddie gasps out as the cat jumps up to meet Eddie’s outstretched hand before falling to the ground, showing off its belly.

Richie snorts and walks closer. He’s gonna be late for the club meeting.

“Don’t leave the poor guy hanging, Eds,” says Richie with a grin. “Scratch ‘em!”

Eddie laughs and gently places his hand on the cat’s belly. It meows at him and wiggles around, head turning to Eddie.

Eddie looks back at Richie with a laugh and then to the cat again before petting its belly. Richie wants to say _i love you, eds_ so bad. But he can’t. So, he says the next closest thing:

“Eds, you look so cute right now—like, like that cat.”

Eddie acknowledges him with a laugh and Richie feels like kissing him.

“You’re so cute,” Eddie baby-talks to the cat and Richie is a step closer to hugging him and twirling him around and _then_ kissing him. “You’re the cutest here in Yale, yeah? The absolute cutest and prettiest, ah, look at you! You’re so fat!”

Richie can’t help the laugh that leaves his mouth as Eddie says the last one. “He’s not that fat!”

“Yes, he is!” Eddie gasps, nodding to the cat’s belly and then shaking his hand against its belly. “Look! He’s jiggling! A fat kitty!”

A leaf falls gently beside the cat and it quickly stands up to paw at it. Eddie giggles before standing up, still staring at it.

RichieandEddie stare at the cat as it runs away, probably to a pile of leaves. “Goodbye, kitty,” Eddie says softly, waving a hand.

“Ah,” Richie says like he’s hurt, and Eddie turns to him in alarm. “You’re so cute, Eds! I can’t handle it!”

He grins when he feels a punch on his arm and Eddie grumbling, “asshole! I thought you were really hurt.”

“Ah, then what would you do, my dear Eds?” Richie teases with a grin as they begin to walk. Richie can already hear the scolding he’s gonna get. He’s late for almost fifteen minutes. Eddie sneezes then and Richie feels like everything’s okay suddenly.

_i love you, i love you, i love you,_

_will you say it back in the way that i do?_

“I’d do nothing,” Eddie grumbles in vengeance, burying his face more into the scarf as he wrinkles his nose. Richie wants to kiss him against a tree. “I’ll leave you here and get my degree.”

“Harsh, baby, harsh,” Richie places a hand over his heart and they both stop in front of the building Richie’s going to. Eddie’s building is a few steps away.

“Good luck, Richie,” Eddie then smiles at him softly, tilting his head up so Richie can see his smile. His nose is red at the tip and his freckles still show even when it’s cold. Richie just wants to hug him forever and never let him go. The wind softly breezes past them and Eddie crinkles his nose in delight. “Don’t get too distracted by the music, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, Eds,” Richie laughs and winks at him. “I’ll even mention the cafeteria for you. Maybe they’ll start serving us tacos.”

“They better!” Eddie huffs, noise wrinkling and Richie is reminded of a bunny. “We pay them hundreds of dollars! I just want some tacos!”

Richie laughs then and his fists in the pockets of his coat. “Well, if you want tacos,” Richie starts and Eddie looks at him curiously, head tilting to the side. “We can go get tacos at the store a few blocks away? You know the place, it’s famous, right?”

“Hector’s?” Eddie muses, and then his eyes sparkle even more, and he nods excitedly at Richie. “Yeah! Can we, Richie? After you finish with club and I finish with class?”

“Yes!” Richie lets out a laugh at Eddie’s excitement. “Eds, yes, I asked you out! Come on, I’ll get you after your classes and we’ll have tacos for dinner.”

Eddie grins at him and laughs a little. “Okay,” he says softly, and he sways a little before he gestures to Richie’s building. “Go to your club! I’m gonna be late for class.”

“We can’t have that, can we?” Richie laughs and then, as quickly as he can, he adjusts Eddie’s scarf a little until it’s covering his nose and grins. “Go to your class, Eds.”

Eddie looks at him in shock before he rolls his eyes, adjusting his beanie. “Fine,” he huffs but still smiles a little. “I finish class at 7:30, okay? I’ll be waiting outside, Richie! Love you!”

Richie manages a small, “love you, too, Eds,” before Eddie is running away from him with a giggle as he runs to his building. He turns to Richie as he goes inside and waves a big hand at him. Richie laughs and shakes his head, his hands shaking a little inside his pockets.

There is just something about being in love with your best friend, Richie thinks as he walks to their club room. There is something about being in love with your best friend and then saying _i love you_ to each other even when you say _i love you_ in another way. There is something about being in love with Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie thinks absent-mindedly as he opens the door and greets everyone. There is something about being in love with Eddie, Eds, his Eds, lovely Eds. Because, Richie Tozier is eighteen years old and he thinks he’s been in love with Eddie Kaspbrak since he was—thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten. He’s been in love with Eddie Kaspbrak ever since he met him.

_ summer of 1995 _

Now, now, before we start, you have to promise me: you will _not_ get mad at what happens, okay? You promise me that, all right? Whatever happens, let’s give these boys the benefit of the doubt, all right? You promise, okay?

All right, now that that’s out of the way, where was I?

Oh, right! So, it was the

_ summer of 1995 _

Here is another thing they don’t tell you when you’re in love with your best friend:

  1. Sometimes, it’s hard to keep all the feelings in



When Richie Tozier wakes up, it’s to the sun hitting him right in the eyes and him groaning loudly. He doesn’t register anything first when Eddie Kaspbrak says from somewhere in their room, “You’re gonna be late.”

Richie opens his eyes. “What?” he says groggily, throat dry as he sits up slightly. He’s quick to turn to his bedside drawer and take huge gulps from a water glass he left last night. Or maybe Eddie did, he doesn’t know. Everything’s a little groggy and messy when you’ve been coming home late because of summer classes.

“This is the worst thing I’ll say,” Eddie sighs from somewhere again and Richie rubs his eyes. What time is it? “But I think you should just get up and put on some clothes and leave. It’s already quarter to nine am.”

“Nine am?” Richie mumbles and throws off his blanket. He’s racking his head for whatever he might have missed but there’s just this low feeling of panic. “What? Eds?”

“You had a club meeting an hour ago and your next class is at 9:30,” Eddie lists off and Richie gasps, sitting up quickly and holding his head as he sways lightly. “And I can see that you haven’t been taking your vitamins. Look at your iron deficiency.”

“Eds,” Richie groans, rubbing at his temples, “shut up.”

Eddie giggles from somewhere and he groans again. “Godfuck,” he swears and swipes at his glasses and blinks at his closet. He’s quick to take a light-blue crop top from somewhere and blue jeans. Eddie personally thinks that crop tops are out of trend, but Richie doesn’t care (the truth, actually, is this: Richie’s just a little lazy to check what’s on trend right now, thinks Beverly would be whacking him on the head with a fashion magazine right now). “You have any breakfast?”

He’s quick to button his jeans and run a hand through his hair. He fixes his glasses again and bends down to get his bag from the floor. Fuck whatever he misses, he needs breakfast. He glances to the side where he thinks Eddie is and freezes. Eddie’s looking at him, sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing one of Richie’s crop tops and boxers, bowl of cereal sitting in-between his legs. The spoon is in his mouth as he raises a brow at Richie’s gaze.

“Froot Loops?” Richie forces out and Eddie nods at him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Nice.”

“You’re so weird,” Eddie mumbles through his spoon and looks down at his cereal and scoops some. “Are you gonna eat?”

“Uhm,” Richie mumbles and shrugs, walking closer to Eddie and squatting in front of him. “Can I have a bite, pretty Eds?”

“Disgusting.”

Still, Eddie brings up a spoon full of cereal and milk and looks at Richie expectantly. Richie takes a bite and his teeth clashes on the metal spoon loudly. Eddie stares at him in slow shock and horror.

“Ow,” he mumbles around the spoon. “Yum.”

“I am never letting you drink coffee mixed with energy drinks,” Eddie says in horror and snatches back his spoon. Richie chews. His head is spinning. Eddie’s ( _Richie’s_ ) shirt is falling off his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be late,” he mumbles and Eddie nods, putting down his bowl on the ground. His boxers ride up slightly when he leans back, and Richie averts his eyes.

“Okay,” Eddie says simply and stands up. Richie straightens up too and they both walk to the door. Richie’s sweating in the heat. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Richie nods and it feels like he’s about to explode. If he doesn’t kiss Eddie Kaspbrak right now, he thinks he’ll go insane.

( _and with eddie wearing his shirt? his crop top that doesn’t look like a crop top when eddie wears it? richie’s going insane_ )

Eddie looks at him and Richie doesn’t know if he’s glad or not to be a little bit taller than him. A little bit taller, a little taller where Eddie looks at him with doe eyes and his freckles are showing again and he’s wearing Richie’s shirt.

Richie just wants to hug him and kiss him until they’re both breathless.

“Oh,” Eddie blinks and Richie feels like his mind has been read. “We have to go grocery shopping, by the way. We’re out of Froot Loops.”

“You mean _you’re_ out of Froot Loops,” Richie manages to say with a smile. He thinks about how that sounds; grocery shopping with your best friend. Richie feels like it’s a dream even though they’ve been grocery shopping together for more than a year.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “ _Fine_ , I’ll try other cereals,” he sniffs and purses his lips. “Cookie Crisps.”

“Can you pick something a little healthier?”

Eddie pouts and Richie doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating or if he’s simply in love, but his lips look a tad bit glossy and it is taking everything in Richie not to lean down and kiss him. “We’re buying you oatmeal,” Richie jokingly says and Eddie pouts even more, rolling his eyes.

Richie decides that yes, he’s just sleepy. He’s tired, he’s sleepy and maybe it’s summer and he should be spending it inside their dorm room and spending it with his Eds and not taking classes. So, it really would make sense when Richie—

“Gonna go,” Richie says then and opens the door. He turns to Eddie for a short while and places a hand on the back of head to softly lean his head up, leaning down quickly to press a kiss on his forehead. It feels like time stops for the both of them and Richie quickly pulls away and they both stare at each other. Richie will never get tired of Eddie’s doe eyes. Eddie’s lips part the slightest bit and Richie thinks of leaning in closer and closer and—

He moves his hand slightly and smiles at Eddie. His hand moves and squishes Eddie’s cheeks as he says softly, “Bye, Eds.”

And because Richie Tozier is the biggest fool in the entire world, he swipes his thumb against Eddie’s bottom lip and gives his cheek a pat.

When the door closes behind him, Richie feels like starting a random fight in the middle of campus just so his feelings can be punched the fuck off.

Richie Tozier, you are one big, gigantic, enormous, stupid idiot.

When Richie comes home, it’s nearing eight pm and he’s rushing in to put his key inside the keyhole and it’s only then that it hits him that _oh_ , he realizes, feeling like the ground is gonna swallow him whole, _i kissed him earlier_.

(which isn’t even saying a lot considering richie tozier did _not_ kiss eddie kaspbrak but for the sake of it, let’s call it he kissed him)

The door opens, to Richie’s disgrace, and he quickly sees Eddie laying down on his bed, writing something on his notebook. He’s wearing one of Richie’s shirts again and baggy jeans. He looks soft and Richie just wants to hug him.

“Hi,” Richie croaks out.

“Hi,” Eddie looks up at him and he’s quick to look back down at his notes. Richie feels like he’s on death row.

“Uhm,” Richie drops off his bag and Eddie looks at him with his brows raised. “Aren’t we—uhm, aren’t we gonna go grocery shopping?”

“Oh, yeah,” answers Eddie and Richie stares at him. Eddie continues to read at his notes. “Give me a minute.”

Richie wishes he could have just confessed instead; the rejection would’ve felt better.

I know you’re getting a little angry now but let me tell you this:

It happens, out of anywhere in the world, it happens in the local grocery store near their campus when the clock nears ten pm.

Richie’s pushing the cart because he thinks this is some kind of punishment. Eddie still talking to him like _nothing_ happened and it feels like Richie’s been rejected in the worst way possible.

It happens in the cereal aisle because that’s how RichieandEddie work.

“Oh, hey, look,” Richie points out, elbows resting on the handle of the cart, “healthy Frosties. Look, Eds, it has small strawberries.”

It doesn’t dawn to him that the Froot Loops are in the highest shelf. Eddie’s clutching a box of Cookie Crisps. Richie turns to him when Eddie throws the box onto the cart. It hits a jar of peanut butter. Richie looks down and cringes at the sound the jar makes when it hits the cart.

“Do you want some Froot Loops?”

Richie looks at the highest shelf. Rookie mistake.

“You are fucking annoying,” Eddie grumbles before, and Richie swears it’s almost like seeing God, Eddie jumps and swipes at a Froot Loops box.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie turns to him with a glare and Richie feels like Eddie’s going to throw knives at him.

“Do you like me?”

This is how Richie Tozier dies.

Well, that was rather interesting. I guess that’s how RichieandEddie ends. Richie Tozier, eighteen-years old, Broad Journalism major, killed in the cereal aisle at ten pm.

May he rest in peace.

Oh! The story hasn’t ended yet. Forgive me but it seems that I forgot the part where

Richie feels like the universe is pulling the biggest and meanest joke on him.

“What?”

Eddie puts the Froot Loops box on the cart and all that’s left to do is for Eddie to push the cart away from him and to let Richie flying off to the frozen meat section. He doesn’t even know how he’s managed to utter out that _what?_ out of him. Richie thinks he’s a worm on the ground being salted on by God.

Richie looks at Eddie and the other just shrugs. “Do you like me?”

“Are you serious?” Richie croaks out then and wonders if Eddie’s doing an experiment. An evil, evil experiment, that is.

“Yeah,” Eddie looks at him fiercely and Richie is going to faint. Oh, he definitely is.

“Why would you ask me that?” Richie asks then desperately and there’s a moment where Eddie’s eyes soften but Richie knows Eddie. Knows him a little too much.

“I asked you first,” Eddie sniffles and scrunches his nose. Richie is dying on Aisle 38 (CEREAL, GRANOLA, BABY FOOD) and Eddie is scrunching his nose because he’s just cute. It is truly how Richie knows how he’s gonna go.

Then, “It’s because I like you.”

Eddie’s eyes don’t leave Richie’s when he says it and Richie is officially far too gone to notice the reddening of Eddie’s cheeks and the way his fingers twitch on the end of the cart.

“You’re joking,” Richie blurts out and Eddie continues to stare at him. “Eds, do you know what’s the similarities between Bohr and Schrodinger’s Model of Atoms?”

Eddie sighs. Richie rambles when he’s nervous, this, Eddie knows for certain. Richie is feeling the ground swallow him whole.

“I love you,” Richie blurts out then and Eddie turns to him with a grin. “I like you, too, I mean. Not love. I was answering your question, Eds.”

Eddie stares at him and then it dawns to Richie what Eddie said earlier. “The energy levels in both Bohr’s and Schrodinger’s models were discrete and they’re quantized.” He blurts out and Eddie smiles at him.

“I can’t believe,” Eddie giggles out and Richie falls in love over again. “I can’t believe I’m in love with a nerd.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighs and leans against the end of the cart, leaning his head on his palm. “Sucks that I’m in love with a boy who always talks about Science facts.”

“You’re—you’re a Science major!” Richie splutters out and Eddie grins. “I’m—I’m perfect for you! What if on your finals they ask you: what’s so different about Bohr’s Model of Atoms? Or, or, ‘explain the metaphysics of this grocery store’!”

“So, you’re perfect for me?” Eddie muses with a tilt of his head and Richie grins, then, gripping the handles tightly. This feels like a fever dream. Yeah, Richie’s dreaming right now, and he’ll wake up to the sun hitting him in the eyes and he’ll wake up with a groan and—

Richie Tozier wakes up.

“Why are your eyes closed?”

Richie opens his eyes with a gasp and he’s—

They’re still in the cereal aisle. Eddie’s looking at him with curious eyes. Richie’s still gripping on the handles.

“What?”

“Did you fall asleep on me?”

“Depends,” Richie breathes out. “Are you still or are you _really_ in love with me?”

Eddie laughs lightly and there’s heat in his cheeks and Richie’s mind is screaming at him to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie Kaspbrak, wearing Richie’s cropped shirt that’s still a bit too big on him, wearing Richie’s Adidas windbreaker he stole from the thrift store, his blue jeans, his messy hair, his pink lips, his button nose, his freckles.

“Depends,” Eddie teases with a smirk and straightens up. “Will you explain the metaphysics of this grocery store to me?”

“Of course, Eds,” Richie breathes out and it’s like falling into a pool full of marshmallows with melted chocolate. “God, yes, I’ll explain the metaphysics of this store to you.”

Then, Eddie laughs loudly, hands covering his face as his shoulders shake. Richie Tozier is in love with Eddie Kaspbrak under the grocery’s fluorescent lights.

“I’m hungry,” Eddie giggles out onto his hands as he shakes his head again. “God, I’m in love with you.”

“Let’s get pancakes,” Richie says confidently and then looks down at their cart. “After we pay for all of this.”

Isn’t it so fun to confuse readers? Are you mad yet? No? Oh well, I can’t say I’m surprised at RichieandEddie. Oh, sorry, were you waiting for their… pancake slash dinner date? Well, I have no idea why you’d want to see that but oh well!

Let’s start with this, of course, RichieandEddie, carrying two bags of groceries in each arm, laughing and bumping into each other as the clock nears twelve am. It’d be oddly romantic if their hands would brush the ever-so-slightest and they’d glance at each other shyly but let’s remember that Richie’s carrying two cartons of milk in his right arm. The prices to pray is too high.

And because the studio persists, magically and thankfully, there’s a twenty-four hours open diner just a few blocks from the grocery store. Richie feels like someone’s patting him on the back. Eddie sneezes even though it’s summer. Wardrobe malfunction?

So, they walk towards the diner, high on love and each other, arms aching from their grocery bags and the need to kiss and hold each other a little too strong. The diner has a promo of two pancakes, you get a free milkshake with two straws. Definitely not the studio’s fault, I’m telling you!

Richie looks at the sky and feels like he’s being judged.

“Uhm, I’ll get the chocolate chip pancake, please,” Eddie smiles sweetly at the waitress and Richie can’t focus on anything but Eddie’s shoulder that’s slowly being exposed due to the shirt sliding off of him. There’s a kick on his knee. They’re sitting at a secluded booth that’s away from everyone (even when there’s no one since it’s the middle of the night) and the windows and door.

“Oh!” he blinks and looks at the waitress as well. “I’ll have the same.”

“We have a promo, boys,” she smiles at them and Eddie perks up. “Two pancakes and you get a free milkshake!”

“Just one milkshake?” Eddie asks confused.

“Yup,” she answers simply.

Silence falls between them. Everyone collectively forgot the script.

“Oh, uhm, we’ll get that,” Richie speaks up and grins at her. “Can we get a strawberry milkshake?”

“Of course, boys,” she hums and writes something on her notepad. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Thank you!” Eddie chirps and they both follow her retreating figure. Richie turns to Eddie and Eddie turns to him then winks.

Richie has been struck in the heart with an arrow.

“You still haven’t kissed me,” says Eddie and Richie wants to throw the table between them and kiss Eddie until they’re both breathless.

“Eds, I am gonna kiss you,” Richie breathes out and Eddie raises his chin like he’s in battle.

Richie doesn’t kiss Eddie.

Their waitress comes with two plates of chocolate chip pancakes and one big glass of strawberry milkshake. There’re two straws available. Richie stares wide-eyed at a wide-eyed Eddie.

“Enjoy your pancakes,” she says and leaves like the wind. Richie thinks she’s an angel. Or God in waitress form.

“Two straws, would you like at that,” Eddie muses and grins at Richie coyly. “Wanna recreate Lady and the Tramp?”

“Eds, the only spaghetti I see here is you.”

Richie grins when Eddie glares at him, but then, Eddie’s eyes soften and he smiles down at his pancakes, stabbing them with his fork. “I like it when you call me Eds.”

“What.”

Which isn’t even said in a teasing way—Richie thinks he’s either deaf or Eddie was mumbling. (The latter, of course)

Eddie takes a bite of his pancake and chocolate smears the side of his lip. He glares at Richie again and mumbles, although a bit louder, through his pancake, “I like it when you call me Eds.”

Richie stares at Eddie and feels his entire face heat up as he covers his face with his hands. “Eds!” he groans and feels like he’s going to vomit his heart out. “Why are you so flirty! I’m supposed to be the flirty one!”

Eddie talks through a mouthful of pancake, “You were never the flirty one.”

Richie accepts his defeat by taking a small bite of his pancake and Eddie’s laughter occupying his heart and mind.

(Although, Richie Tozier does win when he and Eddie Kaspbrak take a sip of the milkshake at the same time and when Eddie pulls away to make a joke, Richie takes his face in his hands and kisses him foolishly and breathlessly.)

(Kissing Eddie Kaspbrak is like this: it’s soft and tastes like chocolate-strawberry. It’s giggles mid-kiss and shushing and laughter when his Eds remembers the joke he was thinking about. Eddie’s hands holding onto Richie’s wrist and _i love you_ ’s whispered onto lips and chocolate smears in the sides of their lips. It’s smudging your glasses against his nose and whining and him cleaning it for you because, _of course_ , he has glass cleaners in his pocket like you have an inhaler in yours. Its butterflies and squirrels and cats running around your stomach as he looks at you again and leans closer to catch your lips.)

(Kissing Richie Tozier is like this: it’s feeling like yourself and like your hands aren’t dirty. It’s kissing the boy of your dreams and knowing that you’re the boy of his dreams too. It’s giggles and smiles throughout the kiss and his hands squeezing your cheeks as you joke about strawberries and chocolate. Its kissing him again and again until the taste of strawberries leaves your mouth. Its catching his lips when he leans away and him biting on your bottom lip. Its feeling like yourself and being alive.)

Here’s another thing about being in love with your best friend:

  1. Loving him is easy as breathing (and realizing that going grocery shopping with him is something you’d want to do forever)



**Author's Note:**

> hope you loved her!! this fic turned into my baby really quick! it was inspired by chloe moriondo's cover of [still into you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I9UEP0Pr5Y) so yep. dont hesitate to comment and heres my [twitter](https://twitter.com/itminiseries)!! i love you endlessly  
> (also the ending is a little rushed i think??????i dont know plz dont comment on endinf) <3 :3


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